The kids aren't alright.

When I heard the forecast that torrential rains were about to assault California, I said, "Pshaw." Southern Californians and the news media often overdramatize the weather here, I think. After the many years in craptastic weather (Alaska, Seattle, Ithaca), a little Southern California sprinkle cannot get me down.

Yeah. Famous last words.

I came home today after sitting in traffic for two hours in the pouring rain. I mean, pouring. My little windshield wipers were doing double-time, but I was still squinting and peering over my steering wheel.

Anyway, I come home and find my poor little husband in our backyard, completely sopping wet, in the rain, barefoot, lodging broomsticks against our gutter to make those darn things dump. And the level of our pool has surpassed the spa and was creeping towards the top.

My two dogs looked up at me as if to say, "Uh, wtf?" Josh came in, soaked to the bone (hmm, where is his raincoat, I was wondering) and said it looked like the water was getting so high that it may leak into the house. And, that would be bad.

So, after a couple of frantic calls to the dads of the family, we learned we needed a sump pump. I called every Home Depot, Lowe's, and Ace Hardware store I could find in the phonebook. Most places were sold out (I had never even heard of a sump pump, but apparently everyone else had), but we finally found one. So, we hopped in the car and were in business.

Currently, out little pump is working its hardest to pump the water from our not-so-mini-lake into the street gutter. Hopefully, it is working. I also keep nervously looking at our ceiling. We could probably use a new roof, so I am praying for no leakage. Yeah, it's times like these I miss our apartment.

So, as we wait for our new little pump to do its business, I am sitting here watching Season Three of The Office and keeping my fingers crossed. Hope everyone else is keeping dry!